Page 40 of The Sapphire Child
‘Not much,’ Andrew admitted, ‘but I know Dad was a hero in Mesopotamia – MrFritwell at the Raj told me so.’
‘Fritters?’ Lydia said with derision. ‘What does he know about the Peshawar Rifles? He was a mere quartermaster for some inferior infantry regiment.’
‘Well, I suppose Dad must have told him. Dad hasn’t explained everything to me yet because it was probably too gory, but he’s promised to tell me when I go home.’
‘Home?’ Lydia said, a sudden tremble in her voice. ‘Don’t you feel at home here with me and Grandmamma?’
‘Of course,’ Andrew said. ‘I didn’t mean...’
Tears sprang to Lydia’s eyes. ‘That pains me so much, Andrew. I adore having you here and yet all you can think about is your father who doesn’t deserve your devotion – no, not in the least bit.’
Stella was suddenly incredibly anxious. Where was this leading? She wondered whether she should intervene, but Andrew was speaking again.
‘What do you mean, doesn’t deserve?’ Andrew frowned. ‘I wish you wouldn’t speak badly about him all the time.’
‘Oh, you’ve no idea what I had to put up with,’ said Lydia. She reached for a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. ‘And now you’re being cruel to me too – I can’t bear it.’ She began to sob.
‘Mamma?’ Andrew sprang up and went to comfort her. ‘I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.’
‘I sh-shouldn’t let myself get emotional about your father and what he’s done. But it’s just too much to hear you speak of him as a hero. I was taken in by all that heroism nonsense too, but it’s not true.’
Andrew looked at her in bewilderment. ‘Don’t say that, Mamma.’
‘Darling, I know things you don’t. I have friends in army circles. But let’s not spoil the evening by talking about it.’
Stella saw Andrew’s agitation grow. ‘What things don’t I know?’
‘I don’t want to be the one to tell you,’ Lydia said, sniffing into her handkerchief.
‘Tell me what? Please, Mamma, what do you know that I don’t? You’re as bad as Dad for thinking I’m too young to be told things.’
‘Oh dear, if I must,’ Lydia said. ‘Come and sit beside me.’
Stella felt now that she had to say something. Standing up, she said, ‘Isn’t it time Master Andrew went to bed? It’s been a tiring day and perhaps this could wait—’
‘I’ll decide that.’ Lydia gave her a hostile look and Stella sat back down.
Andrew perched beside his mother and began biting a fingernail.
Lydia put a hand on his knee. ‘I’m distressed to say this,’ she began, her tone dramatic, ‘but your father was court-martialled in Mesopotamia for some cowardly act. He should have been shot, but his good friend Harold Guthrie intervened on his behalf and his sentence was commuted on grounds of...of...mental instability.’
Andrew looked like he had been slapped across the face. He gasped in shock. ‘No! I don’t believe it!’
Lydia withdrew her hand. ‘I knew you wouldn’t. I shouldn’t have said anything...You’re too young to cope with the truth.’
Tears welled in his eyes.
‘That’s why your father left the regiment – he didn’t choose to; he was forced out. That’s the only reason he doesn’t want to talk about it.’
Abruptly, Andrew’s shoulders sagged as he struggled not to cry. Stella rose to go to him, but Lydia put an arm around her son and patted his hair.
Andrew’s voice wobbled. ‘Th-that’s what G-Gotley said...that Dad was a coward. I thought he was lying.’
‘My darling boy,’ Lydia said in dismay. ‘Is that why you got expelled? For defending your father?’
Andrew nodded. ‘Gotley washateful.’
‘But what he said was true,’ Lydia said brutally.
